Wow, what an evening. It started out way way too close for my comfort but it was nice to see Willie Parker break the 75 yard run after the 1st half in order to give us some breathing room. I have to say though there’s nothing quite like watching a major sporting event with other fans of the same team, just having other people around who are yelling and cheering makes you feel apart of a much bigger family than you thought possible.

To the single damned Seahawks fan who decided he’d come watch the game in a Steelers bar, for the love of baby Jebus shut your fucking face. There’s no need for you to start yelling “Gettin nothing!” everytime the Steelers come to the line of scrimmage. If you make a big play ok, but don’t keep running your mouth off. It’s a quick way to get a beating from some drunken Steelers fan.

I can also gladly say that I’ve witnessed all my favorite sporting teams win their respective championships. Two with the Pens in 91/92 and two with the Arsenal in 02/04, and now the Steelers in 06. If you want to read a really nice story about how some people in the Steelers organization truely are good people hit the more link, otherwise you can go to hell because you’re a cynic who wants to keep thinking that all people in sports are douchebags.

I was reading Page2 on espn.com for stories about the Superbowl and trying to soak up everything I could and I came across this little gem from Chuck Klosterman’s blog he wrote during the whole week leading up to the superbowl. I’ll let him do the writing since he’s obiviously a lot better than myself.

I have a friend named Ellen Shafer, and she knows nothing about football. A few months ago, she traveled to Pittsburgh to see a play; while she was there, Ellen went to a restaurant with a British woman who knows even less about football than she does. They found themselves seated directly next to a man and a woman who were polite and soft-spoken; the man was swarthy, handsome, and had very long hair.

Much to Ellen’s surprise, strangers constantly walked up to this unknown man and asked for his autograph. At first, Ellen assumed this person must be a rock star; he looked a little like Metallica guitarist Kirk Hammett. But after awhile, Ellen deduced this fellow must be a professional football player, because so many of his admirers mentioned admiration for his ability to hit people with extreme prejudice.

Eventually, Ellen introduced herself. “I have no idea who you are,” she said, “but your wife has amazing shoes.” This statement made the long-haired man very happy. He introduced himself: He said his name was Troy Polamalu.

For the next hour, these four people made casual conversation, never discussing sports or celebrity. Ellen found him to be amazingly friendly and relentlessly humble.

Eventually, the long-haired man (and his wife) exited the restaurant. Ellen and her friend chatted about how affable the pair had been, and how cool it was that Mr. Polamalu had seem so legitimately interested in their own boring lives.

Ellen and her friend signaled the waiter for the check, curious about how much money they owed. But when the waiter came over to their table, he told them everything was taken care of: The long-haired stranger had quietly paid the totality of their bill.

Now, I realize Troy Polamalu is rich. And I realize that — to him — this encounter probably means nothing. He might not even remember that it happened. But I’m rooting for the Steelers. And I’m rooting for them for the same reason I skipped the Maxim party: Humanity deserves respect, rockers.

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